His Grace: Her Strength
by Ace of SpadesXD
Summary: Michael had fallen a long way from glory, he saw his faults, his mistakes. She was his light in the Darkness. She was his Strength, he would gladly sacrifice what little Grace he had left for her piece of mind. (M/D) One-Shot, "Note will make longer if enough people enjoy the idea"


**This is technically a one-shot, but if enough people like this idea I'm willing to continue, so enjoy! :)**

 **His Grace; Her Strength**

 _By: Ace of SpadesXD_

Pain and darkness came from above and below wrecking havoc amongst mortal, demon, and angel alike. The tides were unchanging, a mass of horrid, messy chaos. The big world had become smaller with the fight, with the pain of one another. Brother had turned against brother, friend against friend, relishing in the anguish of the other.

The Apocalypse had sent tremors that ripped and cracked through God's beauty. God's creations had become failures, hideous and broken. White became tainted, purity twisted, hope slaughtered.

Michael for the first time in many, many centuries had a sick feeling in the depths of his gut, something that was unshakable. This was wrong. This shouldn't have happened; _he_ shouldn't have allowed it to happen. Shame flooded and over took his being.

Why couldn't he have loved these people in the first place as God commanded it so? Why couldn't he have put aside his issues with Lucifer and helped move his brother away from this path of terror and misery? It was his fault, all his fault. Michael knew it wrong, but he felt doubt, doubt in everything. Doubt in his Father and the workings he had sewn, or at least what he thought he had sewn. Father had been gone for so long. He knew not what his will was anymore.

An Angel by all rights should not doubt the work of God, they should follow and be the perfect solider, but he had had enough; he had worn out his hopes. Michael was broken both in mind and soul at the hands of his family, at this Apocalypse that probably could have been prevented.

Yes, Lucifer was wrong to not see his own faults and not to love their Father's creations, but he had not been the only guilty one. Michael himself had hated the humans for so, so long, but he had never been thrown away from Heaven; no, he had wisely kept his mouth shut. Kept his views to himself.

Michael wished he had been as strong as Gabriel, Anna, and Castiel. He wished he would have exercised God's gift of free-will; if humans had the right, why not he? Diana Winchester had been right; he and all of his brethren truly were dickheads. If he would have pulled his head out of his ass, maybe it wouldn't have been this bad. His brothers and sisters wouldn't be dying or already dead, the humans wouldn't be in so much pain, demons wouldn't be running the Earth; the Winchester's wouldn't have gone to Hell and back.

His eyes prickled with something wet; what was that? Michael reached a hand towards his face to swipe away the offender. Drawing it back to see he was surprised. A tear, he had shed his first tear for not only his brethren, but the humans he had so blatantly despised. This created an even sicker feeling in his stomach. Michael didn't deserve to be alive; those who died didn't deserve to die. Why did fate spite him so?

A stream of warm tears followed the first, uncontrollable. No, no, Michael sank to his knees as the agony of this knowledge keep hitting him over and over, clutching his hair as he let loose a silent scream. There was no glory in this life, nothing more to fight for, and nothing more to follow. God was gone, his family was gone.

With strength unknown to him he struggled to his feet, clumsily smearing the tears across bloodshot eyes. He knew what he had to do.

Crawling across the bloodstained grounds to a fallen sibling, Michael liberated their sword, sending a quick prayer for their fallen spirit to fly high once again. He caressed the precious metal mined and blessed in the skies of Heaven. He closed his eyes and bowed his head. Chapped lips moved, preparing on last prayer in honor of his missing Father.

" _Our Father who art in heaven, hallowed be thy name_." His voice rang clear and steady. " _Thy kingdom come, Thy will be done on earth as it is in heaven._ "

He kissed the hilt of the blade eyes still shut tight in prayer, " _Give us this day our_ _daily_ _bread, and forgive us our trespasses, as we forgive those who trespass against us_ ," Michael thought briefly of his siblings and Lucifer, but pushed it aside to continue on.

" _And lead us not into temptation_ ," Michael's face tightened, " _but deliver us from evil_."

With such said he raised the blade high, and then suddenly with much force thrust downwards. It imbedded its self in the bottom of his stomach, drawing a gasp. It stung oddly, but Michael felt no true agony. The agony he felt did not come from the stabbing, but the pain in which came mentally. He was numb as he felt his life and grace drip away.

Coughing wetly blood staining his lips Michael continued with the final words, " _For thine is the kingdom, and the power, and the glory, for ever and ever. Amen_." Father forgive for mine trespasses Michael sent mentally as he fell forward feeling the word grow dark and cold.

As his life slowly edged away into the darkness, a feeling of serenity and sympathy washed over him. A feeling of home that had vanished along with his Father.

Diana sat near the back of the church, watching as Sam tried to question the priest. She honestly didn't understand it. How did he still believe in this kind stuff; it was too hopeful, to fairytail-ish. From Diana's experience no one invisible or all powerful had ever watched her back or had protected her. It had been her strength and confidence that had kept her and Sammy alive while their dad was out hunting, or they themselves were on a hunt. To even think Sam still prayed and put his hope in some all-powerful figure amazed her to no end.

Heck, she didn't blame him for wanting something to put his hopes and fears in, but it was just too out there. No God or Angel had protected her Mother, nor gave her Father the strength to let go of her instead of making a deal with a demon.

No one had been there to save her from the ailments of the world, or even herself.

"If you're so blatantly against the notion of religion, why are you at a Church of all places?" Diana near to jumped out of her skin almost close to reaching for her gun as a young man sat in the pew besides her, voice smooth and inquiring. Thankfully the revolver stayed safely tucked away in the breast pocket of her jacket.

He was beautiful; not the rough or roguish handsome she was used to picking up in those back end dives. He was better, so much better.

Soft black hair, brushed over clear porcelain skin, emerald eyes glittering with something unreadable beneath long ebony lashes. Under those pristine khaki slacks and navy sweater, Diana could tell he was not only tall, but very fit and compact, but dang, Sammy was gonna have a run for his money with that height.

"Is it that obvious?" Her lips quirked slightly, "My brother believes, even if I don't really feel the same its important to support him and I understand why he does what he does. He's my family; I'll love him no matter the cause."

Well, at least she told him part of the truth. She did believe it was important to support Sammy; he was her baby bro after all. But the whole ghost/angel killing out of God's word probably wouldn't go over to well with this guy. Too hard to believe; he'd probably believe she was bat shit crazy.

Diana felt a little disconcerted at the once over his eyes gave her. It wasn't the perverted ones she received from sleezeball hunters at Ellen's nor was it the malicious/lustful ones from the demons they hunted. No, it was more knowing and soul searching; almost as if he saw her for who she truly was, not who she pretended to be.

It was unnerving, but wasn't just that; there was a tone of understanding, of amazement, as if he had felt the same, but hadn't managed to reach for it.

"Family is an entity that is worth both the sacrifice and the pain," He smiled gradually yet with a light air eyes turning far off into the beyond. "No matter the pain they may bring about or the chaos, it is a love that can never be broken."

"Yea," Diana gave him an odd look as she just remembered, "Who were you again?"

His eyes sparkled in bemusement at her question, almost as if he was humoring her.

"Forgive me, I am Michael Adriel." Michael stated with an appraising look, "May I inquire the same?"

Diana thought for a moment; it wasn't like it would hurt anything. For all she knew he had no idea who she was.

"Diana Winchester at your service," She offered him her hand and a crooked smile.

She dropped it as soon as she noticed the confused look quickly pass across his face at his gesture. That was weird.

"Never shook a hand before," Diana quirked an eyebrow at him.

"No I cannot say that I have," He had a curious glint. "I am new to this area; many customs prove to baffle me."

How was hand shaking baffling? As far as Diana knew it was a preferred way for introductions in the U.S. Was Michael new to America? Maybe; seeing his slight discomfort she let it rest for the time being.

Diana about to open her mouth to say something in turn, but with a glance towards Sam she realized she'd have to wrap this up. She wished she could've talked to him a little longer; he seemed like a weird guy. Weird was good.

"Well it was nice meeting you," She gave him a tiny smile. "I have to go grab my brother, if he talks for too long we're not going to have anytime for our research project."

She turned around to leave, but a hand on her shoulder stopped her short. Diana froze. It was strong and warm against her shoulder, not an uncomfortable warm, but soothing feel. She turned back to see soulful emeralds staring into her soul.

"Would you care to dine with me tonight?" He asked (or more likely told, she couldn't really tell), "It would be pleasing to learn more about you."

Diana furrowed her eyebrows; this guy sure did talk weird. Hm… the offer was pretty interesting though. It couldn't hurt too badly. This guy seemed a whole lot better than most of the ones she had brought back to the hotel's she and Sam shared (not that Sam had really known, she kept that on the down low).

Opening her mouth to answer Diana was abruptly cut off by Sam calling her over. Giving Michael an apologetic smile she turned to jog over to her brother. He must've followed, if the foot steps behind her were any indicate.

"So, Diana and I heard about the murders," Sam motioned to her as he gave the Father a believable, unbelieving puppy dog face. "It seems so unthinkable."

The Father nodded sadly in turn, "The victims were parishioners of mine. I'd known them for years. It is very unthinkable and tragic."

Diana cut in before Sam, tone short of incredulous, but notably mindful and respectful.

"And the killers said that an angel made them do that? Just seems a little farfetched and unreal." At her words Diana heard a distinct shuffle of feet behind her.

"Misguided souls," sighed Father Reynolds's. "To think that God's messenger would appear and incite people to murder, truly tragic."

Diana raised an eyebrow at him, "So you don't believe in those angel yarns?" She was pretty unbelieving herself.

"Oh, no, I absolutely believe." He was quick to reassure her with a patented smile, "Believing in the acts and beings of God kind of goes with the job description."

Sam suddenly drew the attention of the Father away, pointing towards some portrait to the back of the Church. What was that? Was that some kind of Angel?

"Father, that's Michael, right?" Michael? Her mind automatically shifted to the man standing behind her, the man who made another shift at the name. So he was named after some Angel. Odd; could he have some part in this case?

Maybe, it never hurt to be cautious in her line of work. For all she knew he could be some kind of creep pretending to some avenger of God. At that thought she could've sworn she heard a snort in the back of her mind, but quickly wrote it off she probably was just imagining things.

"That's right, the Archangel Michael with the flaming sword." Father Reynolds's brought his attention to the portrait, "He is a fighter of demons and a Holy force against Evil."

"So they're not really the Hallmark-card version that everybody thinks?" What was Sammy trying to get at? 'They're fierce, right; vigilant?" Diana mentally sighed at his "evidence", he wasn't going to let this go anytime soon.

The Father gave Sam a weird look, "I like to think of them as more loving than wrathful.  
But, yes, a lot of Scripture paints angels as God's warriors _. An angel of the Lord appeared to them, glory of the Lord shone down upon them and they were terrified. - Luke 2:9._ "

"Loving is a strong word, as well as wrathful," Diana nearly jumped out of her skin as Michael spoke up for the first time.

Father Reynolds's and Sam finally noticed him behind her; it was like he had been invisible to all but her throughout their small discussion. Sammy was giving him a suspicious yet curious look. The Father was inquiring.

"Those of the Lord would possibly show compassion or rather some sort of understanding to those free of sin and that deserving," Michael spoke as though it were truth. "As to the wrathful aspect, maybe more less enraged and mission sent; soldiers following their orders, perfecting God's will."

"An interesting insight," The Father politely accepted. "Are you to looking to become a part of the congregation? Mr….?"

"Michael Adriel, Father," Michael's extended a half smile. "And no I'm just passing through with business that stands to be corrected. I came here today for a chance for a swift prayer and ran into Ms. Diana, before I had the chance to leave and complete my business."

Diana was confused at the sudden look of shock that crossed Sam's face and that of befuddlement on the Father's. What was going on? She was both confused and frustrated, what did they see that she didn't?

"Your parents must have held many religious sentiments and hopes for you," The Father finally commented with a patented smile, "Michael the follower of God, or more closely read 'the flock of God'."

"Yes, my Father held many sentiments for me," Michael held an almost strained smile. "I have followed many, and have resolved to improve the others."

Oh Lord, Diana resisted the urge to roll her eyes, this better not give Sammy any ideas. This man had more than likely just put himself in the middle of her brothers inquiries and _faith_.


End file.
